


Close to You

by amyfortuna



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Pining, Secret Relationships/Forbidden Relationships, Sharing Fantasies, Sibling Incest, consensual drunk sex, Ósanwe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 02:14:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6636985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/pseuds/amyfortuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Orodreth can't help finding his brother fair. Obviously the solution is alcohol.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Close to You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sleepless_Malice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sleepless_Malice/gifts).



It began as most ill-fated ventures do: with too many glasses of wine very late at night. Finrod grew ever more sparkling the more wine was in him, but Orodreth tended to glower and sink lower into the comfortable couch like he wanted to melt into it and disappear entirely. 

Ever since the death of Esgaleth his wife, now almost sixty years ago, he had been conscious of a unmet need humming through his veins, something that merely taking himself in hand could not quench. He had not been married long; a mere four years, and Finduilas had been only two when Esgaleth was cruelly slain by an Orc-arrow. 

And there was something about Finrod drunk and laughing, curling up in his rooms of an evening, that set his heart fluttering, his body aching with desires he did not even dare to name. Late in those nights, after Finrod had wandered off to find his own bed - and possibly, he assumed, a cousin or two along the way - he would lie back down on the sofa where they had reclined, bring his hand down to his cock, there where Finrod had lain half in his embrace, and stroke himself to orgasm, his brother's name on his lips, his scent and the memory of his laughter all around him. 

Afterward, always, Orodreth would go and wash himself off, shame burning through him almost as hot as the desire had. He would swear to himself never to do it again, never to think of it again. 

He always did. 

But tonight was different. Finrod stayed later than ever before, golden head resting wearily on Orodreth's breast as they sat together on the couch, hand idly playing with one of Orodreth's curls. The wineglasses - and bottles - were empty, but neither of them could be bothered getting up to refill them. 

"Have you quarrelled with our cousins?" Orodreth asked at last, when the thick silence and Finrod's careless caresses had grown to be almost too much to bear. 

Finrod raised his head, and his eyes did not look half as befuddled with wine as Orodreth would have wished. "No," he said, and then sighed. "There are times when they are...absorbed in each other to the exclusivity of all else, and a mere cousin such as myself dare not pry." 

"Would you wish to pry, and what do you think you would find if you did?" 

"I envy them, rather," Finrod said, eyes dreamy. "I don't wish to come between them when they are like this...I would prefer it if you and I were so close to each other." 

"H-how do you mean?" Orodreth asked, doing his best to restrain a gasp. "Are we not close?" 

"We are," Finrod breathed, and knelt up on the cushions, facing Orodreth. His long gentle fingers took Orodreth's chin in his hand, and slowly raised it so that their eyes met. "But I want more." 

"Yes," Orodreth gasped, hardly able to articulate the word in his eagerness. Their mouths met, both moving toward each other. 

For a moment Orodreth wondered if this wasn't just a lonely fantasy he had conjured up: one that felt entirely too real. Or perhaps had his mental shields dropped so far that Finrod could see right through them? Hesitatingly, he brushed against Finrod's mind with his own, a gentle knocking, seeking to enter Finrod's mind with his own in the same way his tongue was penetrating Finrod's mouth. 

He heard sweet laughter, and was bathed in wave after wave of affection tinged with attraction. "My very fair brother," Finrod whispered into his mind, "you and I are alike in so many ways, this not least." Finrod sent him an image of their bodies entwined naked on that very couch, accompanied with the knowledge that Finrod had been thinking of just that all the evening. 

The desire that had been smouldering within Orodreth all the evening thus far rose up in a great wave, threatening to smother him. He thrust up against Finrod, half in desperation, to encounter through his clothes Finrod's arousal, matching his own. 

"You have so little control," Finrod whispered into his mind, teasingly. "I like it." 

"Anything, anything," Orodreth whispered back. "I want - I need -" he broke off in frustration, unable to articulate the words that he wanted to say, but sent an image of Finrod atop him, pressing into him slow and sure.

Finrod gasped, but then abruptly sat up. His ears ringing, Orodreth shook his head, trying to clear it. There was a knock at the door, and after a moment, Celebrimbor's voice could be heard. "I'm sorry, my lords, I know the hour is late." 

Finrod got up, swaying dangerously for a moment. His hair was distinctly mussed and his jewellery was all askew, whereas his robes looked like they had been slept in. It was an alarmingly good look on him, and Orodreth, too besotted with alcohol and lust to care, watched his brother's pretty arse sway all across the room to the door. 

Celebrimbor, at Finrod's bidding, came in, and smiled a little at their déshabillé and the disheveled state of the room. "I hope you've had a pleasant evening," he said to both of them, and then, turning to Finrod, "and I'm sorry to disturb you, but Eradhil said you could be found here. I'm trying to finish resetting your necklace for tomorrow night, but we do not have enough emeralds in store, so I thought I'd enquire if another gem would suit."

Finrod thought for a moment. "I'm wearing green and white - can you make it half diamonds and half emeralds?" 

Celebrimbor smiled. "I can," he said. "Thank you. I'll go back to my work now." 

Finrod laid a hand on his arm. "There's no need to stay up all night just for a necklace."

"Oh, no," Celebrimbor said. "I like it. I get my best work done at night, when it's quiet. I'll take my rest when I need it, never fear!" 

Finrod kissed him on the cheek warmly. Orodreth was watching Celebrimbor's face, for he'd long wondered if the son of Curufin carried a torch for Nargothrond's king, but found to his relief that Celebrimbor only smiled affectionately, no guilt or hidden lust on his face. Of all of them, Orodreth thought, Celebrimbor was probably the sanest, unaffected by forbidden desires or hidden lusts. He would never die because of love. 

He looked up from his musings to find the door shut, and Finrod locking it, then turning with eager eyes to him. Orodreth rose to his feet, swaying dangerously himself, and held out his hand. "Second thoughts?" he said, just for show. The look in Finrod's eyes was answer enough. 

"No," Finrod said, taking the offered hand. He brought it to his mouth, kissing Orodreth's wrist, then taking one of his fingers into his mouth, slowly, dragging his lips down and sucking on it. 

Orodreth had never experienced anything so seductive. He could hardly breathe. It seemed like everything Finrod was doing to his finger shot straight to his cock, turning him all to fire. "Come to bed," he whispered, and Finrod smiled. 

Once in the bedroom, Finrod was all over him, tugging their clothing off rapidly and tumbling him down to the bed. Orodreth kept a vial of massage oil on the mantlepiece; Finrod spotted it the moment they walked through the door and had it in his hand as soon as they were naked. 

"Have you ever done this to yourself?" he asked. "Your own fingers, pressing inside...." 

Orodreth nodded, holding out his hands, aching for Finrod to join him. His brother, golden hair falling down around him, crawled over to him, pressing kisses to his feet, his calves, his thighs, up to his cock, which he took into his mouth for a moment and sucked. Orodreth fell back, limp under his brother's caresses, so relaxed from lust and alcohol he hardly felt anything when Finrod's fingers pressed into him. 

Finrod's fingers brushed against a spot not far inside him that made him see stars from pleasure, and soon afterwards, Finrod let his cock slide out of his mouth, and lined up carefully so that he could press home inside Orodreth himself. He gathered Orodreth up in his arms and lowered him down inch by inch on his length. Orodreth buried his head against Finrod's shoulder, kissing the wealth of his hair, pressing small bites to his throat, fingertips tracing the curve of his ear, as Finrod fucked him slow and soft at first, then harder and faster. 

For all his arousal, he was lazy with it, almost asleep in Finrod's arms, like he was caught in a dream. Finrod slipped a hand between them to jerk him off, and he was roused a little. "Brother," he whispered, "my Finrod, mine...." He trailed off into incoherence, not quite sure what he was saying, but tried to convey it in thought: more a feeling than an image or words, warmth, safety, passionate desire, golden beauty, harmony and bliss, all mixed together in the form of the one person inside him now. 

Finrod held him closer. "Yours," he said, and a wave of sensation came from him: the tight heat of him sending Finrod's senses reeling, his loveliness, silver and gold hair cascading like a waterfall, the brightness of his smile, the comfort and peace of his company. 

Their minds joined together then, as if sending images, thoughts, and feelings was no longer enough. For one moment they were one gloriously whole person, gasping in each other's arms, rocking back and forth together on the bed, driving the flame of their passion ever higher. Finrod pushed Orodreth down on the bed and pounded into him, relentless, and Orodreth put his legs round Finrod's waist, dragging him close. 

Orgasm broke over them like a wave in a storm, threatening for a long impossible moment, then crashing down with mighty fury. Orodreth could feel Finrod pulsing inside him as well as the white storm of bliss in his mind, and they both tumbled down into unconsciousness for a long, long while. 

When Orodreth finally roused himself, it was to the knowledge that it was day. Finrod lay beside him, and began to stir not long after. They were both sticky with dried seed, and Orodreth hardly had to hear Finrod's groan to know that his head pounded just as viciously as his own. 

For a long moment, Orodreth did not dare to even look at Finrod, so sure he would see morning-after regret in his eyes. But Finrod moved closer, and pressed a kiss to his shoulder, wordlessly. 

And Orodreth smiled.


End file.
